BitterSweet
by Lothynagul
Summary: A series of back and forth between two characters. AU! When dreams are shattered and hanging on by a thread, sometimes all there is is that nefarious hope from Pandora's box to keep you alive.


Cool, silent stars above, and an empty landscape, derelict of life, were a welcome change. The bustle of Weyr and Base in preparation for the Hatching was thrilling, intense… and consuming. Solitude had become a rarity in the past few weeks, all muddled in a whirlwind of events, minor crisis, and curiosities within Vraston's brain. Which, of course, was why he now stood alone, gazing over the calm, empty lake before him. Smiling a bit sadly, Vraston let his gaze meander over the trees and water, before picking his way to a seat on a rock at the waters' edge. Carefully folding himself down, the young man allowed a faint, reminiscent smile pass his lips as he studied the faint moonlight, before he shook his head. So many memories, and all were so…  
Bittersweet.  
Bittersweet-the pendant glimmering in the faint moonlight at his throat, reflecting the water. Bittersweet-Varaths' clutch and hope, about to hatch. Bittersweet-the new life on Oren, bought with blood to preserve a hope and future. Bittersweet-dying instead of her. Bittersweet-the silence.  
Head bowed, Vraston sighed softly, feeling the knot of unspoken sorrow and regret in his chest ease slowly in the silence. It was why he came here, still. If he didn't get away at times, Saro or no Saro, he'd explode. The worst burden for a man to bear-guilt at still being alive. For surviving. Not being strong enough to save all of them. It didn't matter, just then, that he was barely 21, if you didn't count the years in stasis, or that he had the future. At that moment, he needed to let out what he felt, lest he contaminate the growing hope of everyone.  
So soon, and yet still so far away it seemed, the eggs would hatch. Everyone involved was holding their breaths, not even about a hopeful Impression-but about the dragons being ALIVE. No one knew what effects stasis-let alone the serum- might have had. The scientists said they were fine, and healthy, but personally? Vraston couldn't find it in him to believe, until he saw the dragons alive and hale at hatching, partnered well and growing. Then he would calm himself.  
No. Better for him to be alone tonight. And he had other reasons for wanting to be so, truly. For two years he'd been letting the events simmer, and his feelings, slowly letting out the parts he could bear to. Yet for those he couldn't, he stole moments like this, when no one was around, to allow the rest out. And remember, most of all. Softly, so quiet it was a mere whisper at first, the young man's voice filled the air, haunting, and melodic, musing and remorseful.  
"Memories of all those who fell  
In the darkness holding me close  
Burning the brightest in times of need,  
Bright stars, land-bound, a poisoned rose  
Scarred and forsaken, our last hope  
Through pain untold you set us free,  
Lamenting in blood, hate, and fear.  
Bittersweet now, your memory…  
Weeping memories, sleeping with the sun,  
In the darkness holding me close,  
Debts of the soul, dreams of the dead,  
Bright stars, land-free, shelter this rose.  
Guide us home, Spirited Varath,  
Give us your strength, forgive our debt,  
We have no care for love and war,  
This guilt-Alive! We all regret.  
The ones we left who paid our price,  
In blood and tears our lives to save,  
What we lost-most precious to us  
Yet now you lie within a grave.  
We have lost the treasure of life,  
An unanswerable requiem,  
Sorrow eternal at our loss,  
Bittersweet-the price of our dream."

As Vraston's voice faded, choking on the last line, a single tear traced it's way over his cheek, soon followed by another. Staring at the moon, the young man struggled to find peace, in himself most of all. And…It was true. It was a bittersweet price. They had lost so very much, and yet… In mere weeks, it seemed, the eggs would hatch, and they would see the fruition of a dying Varath's request. Her name, and Faranths', would live on. He held onto that, knowing, in his heart, that no price was too high to see that.  
It just hurt so damn much.


End file.
